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Nature means Necessity.
Philip James Bailey
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Philip James Bailey
Age: 86 †
Born: 1816
Born: April 22
Died: 1902
Died: September 6
Author
Poet
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P. J. Bailey
Necessity
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Nature
Mean
More quotes by Philip James Bailey
I cannot love as I have loved, And yet I know not why It is the one great woe of life To feel all feeling die.
Philip James Bailey
Look on the bee upon the wing 'mong flowers How brave, how bright his life! then mark, him hiv'd, Cramp'd, cringing in his self-built, social cell, Thus it is in the world-hive most where men Lie deep in cities as in drifts.
Philip James Bailey
The dew, 'Tis of the tears which stars weep, sweet with joy.
Philip James Bailey
Mind and night will meet, though in silence, like forbidden lovers.
Philip James Bailey
Youth might be wise we suffer less from pains than pleasures.
Philip James Bailey
True faith nor biddeth nor abideth form, The bended knee, the eye uplift is all Which men need render all which God can bear. What to the faith are forms? A passing speck, A crow upon the sky.
Philip James Bailey
For ivy climbs the crumbling hall To decorate decay.
Philip James Bailey
The value of a thought cannot be told.
Philip James Bailey
Stars which stand as thick as dewdrops on the field of heaven.
Philip James Bailey
For as nightingales do upon glow-worms feed, So poets live upon the living light.
Philip James Bailey
He who has most of heart knows most of sorrow.
Philip James Bailey
The ground of all great thoughts is sadness.
Philip James Bailey
My favoured temple is an humble heart.
Philip James Bailey
Man is one and he hath one great heart. It is thus we feel, with a gigantic throb athwart the sea, each other's rights and wrongs thus are we men.
Philip James Bailey
Walk boldly and wisely.... There is a hand above that will help you on.
Philip James Bailey
There is no surer mark of the absence of the highest moral and intellectual qualities than a cold reception of excellence.
Philip James Bailey
Imagination is the air of mind.
Philip James Bailey
Dear Lord, our God and Saviour! for Thy gifts The world were poor in thanks, though every soul Were to do nought but breathe them, every blade Of grass, and every atomie of earth To utter it like dew.
Philip James Bailey
The poet's pen is the true divining rod Which trembles towards the inner founts of feeling Bringing to light and use, else hid from all, The many sweet clear sources which we have of good and beauty in our own deep bosoms And marks the variations of all mind As does the needle.
Philip James Bailey
Remember that thy heart will shed its pleasures as thine eye its tears, and both leave loathsome furrows.
Philip James Bailey